Malcolm
by Alelalu
Summary: This story has been part of me for nearly 10 years. It’s changed drastically since then, and it’s far from perfect.. but its something :) Also this story isn’t fan fiction, just wanted to post it! The story of two boys and their struggle to reconcile when they’re forced to confront emotions that have been buried for years.
1. One

**This is a story that I wrote for a creative writing class in college :) it's definitely still a work in progress and I'm not completely sure where I want this story to go so I apologize in advance if it seems rushed!**

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When I was younger, I had a friend named Malcolm. He lived across the street from me in this little farm house, surrounded by almond orchards. The one thing that often stuck out to me about his house was how the almond blossoms looked as they fell from the trees. They alwaysscattered around his front porch during the spring.

I met Malcolm when I was eight or nine years old. It was the day I moved into a newly built cul-de-sac right next to the orchards. The town was small yet big enough that it never felt boring or empty. Regardless, I was apprehensive about my new home. That is, until Malcolm made his way into my life. I remember the first time I saw Malcolm, he was standing behind the fence of his house staring at me when I got out of the car. He watched me with what I can only assume was curiosity.

I'm not going to lie, it was pretty fucking creepy. But I just waved at him with a smile. He looked a bit surprised, like I caught him in the act. However, without hesitation, he waved back aggressively. I swear he could've snapped his arm at the elbow. Later that same day, as I played with toy cars on the front lawn while my parents unpacked, Malcolm approached me.

"Hey you." I heard a voice say from behind me. I turned and there he stood. Up close, he looked roughly a year older than me, give or take a couple months. I remember he had a twig tangled in his chocolate brown hair. It's funny because, now that I think about it, Malcolm always had some shit stuck in his hair. He looked from me to my cars and back at me again. It seemed as if he was trying to figure out what to say next. Like he didn't think he'd make it that far into the interaction.

"My name is Malcolm." He said and stuck his muddy hand out in front of my face. Or, at least, I think it was mud. I took his hand and shook it just like my dad taught me to when someone introduces themselves.

"I'm Lars! Want to play with me?" I asked him. He nodded and plopped down next to me in the grass. From that point on, there was an unspoken agreement between both of us that we'd be best friends.

I was never an explicitly social kid, but I wasn't completely anti-social either. Malcolm was the first friend I made when I moved into town and the only person I hung out with. If you know what it's like moving schools halfway through a school year, making friends with your class is hard and can be goddamn terrifying. If I'm being honest, I isolated myself from others. I unconsciously decided that Malcolm was the only person I could call a true friend and just accepted it. So, I never bothered to get close with my classmates because I believed Malcolm was all I needed. There was always an innocent wonder that shown through those big brown eyes. It was one of the many things I liked about him.

Malcolm and I were like most other eight-year-old boys. We liked to play in the dirt, collect creepy crawlies, play "superheroes," "cops and robbers" or any other made up game we could think of. We'd take turns being the leader on our "adventures" and got into plenty of trouble. But we'd go right back to playing in the dirt when we could.

I was always mesmerized by the big smile he had on his face. How he managed to do that every day was a mystery to me. Most days we spent together were very care free as Malcolm and I would run off and just get lost in our own imaginations. But one day in particular always sticks out to me.

It was about a year after I met him, my parents had taken us to a national park that was nearby for a play date. As we walked, they paused to look at their map. Malcolm and I took this opportunity and ran ahead. We were told not to wander off too far; but we didn't listen, of course, and walked into the wooded area nearby. The trees loomed over us and cast shadows that merged with ours. It was quiet and peaceful, but then we'd walk by and disrupt the tranquility with our destructive energy. Malcolm pulled something out of his pant pocket and grabbed my hand as he walked ahead of me.

"Stick with me Lars. I can get us through this scary forest." Malcolm said, "If anything tries to get us, then I'll hit them like this!" His arm flailed as he struck the branches around us with his brand-new pocket knife.

"Wow, you're so lucky!" I said, "My mom would never let me have that. Your mom and dad are super cool.Can I come over your house later and say hi?"

I recall that he was quiet for a moment and hesitated before a smile spread across his face and he giggled.

"But your house is lots more fun Lars, so I don't think you'd like mine. It's actually pretty boring."

"Oh… well okay then. If you say so."

"But you gotta make sure you keep the knife a secret okay? I took it from my dad's lunch box, so I'm not supposed to have it." He whispered to me before slashing down another branch and did some sort of flying kick. I don't think he was dealing any damage to them though; just the occasional leaf would be ripped from its branch and fallto the ground.

"Oh my gosh! You really did that? How'd you do that? I don't think I could ever take a knife. You're like a real adventurer." I said.

"Well adventurers have to be tough and protect people. So that's what I'm gonna do." He turned and lifted me off the ground, running around and yelling with me on his back.

"What're you doing? Put me down!"

"No way! I'm protecting you. Can't you see there's monsters after us? I'm gonna save you!" Malcolm ran down near a ledge that harbored some rapids way down below us. Despite all the fun I was having, I distinctly remember starting to feel afraid for our safety and began to realize how far away we were from my parents.

"Malcolm slow down! I can't see my mom and dad anymore. We gotta be careful or we could get hurt." I said.

"No, we won't. Don't worry okay? I got this. Nothing can hurt us out here!" he said. As if karma was waiting for the perfect fucking time to strike, Malcolm lost his footing in the dirt and fell flat on his face, causing me to get bucked off and go rolling down the hill. In an instant, the dirt and leaves disappeared from under me and I was in the air. I managed to grab onto the ledge I had just fallen from and hold onto the root that jut out of the hillside. My heart was pounding in my ears as I looked down to see a watery death filled with jagged rocks awaited me down below. Panic and fear set in my stomach and I screamed for Malcolm.

"Malcolm, help I can't climb back up! Where are you?Help please, I don't know what to do. Help!" I said as I scanned the ledge frantically for him to appear. I definitely remember beginning to cry at that point when I heard the earth shifting around me. Malcolm was sliding down and stopped at a branch close to where I was and planted his heels in the ground. He wedged his knife into the branchand held onto it as he reached for me.

"I got you, Lars, I got you. Grab my hand and I can pull you up. But you have to jump." He said.

"I can't! I'm scared. What if I fall when I let go? I want my mom… go get my mom please." I said through my tears.

"You won't fall! I'm gonna save you. Just jump andgrab my hand."

I was terrified of letting go, but Malcolm's words seemed to erase my fear slightly and I tried to get as much stable footing as I could and leapt as high as I could. I felt myself falling back down and let out a short scream before Malcolm grabbed my arms and pulled me up to him. We both scrambled to the top of the hill and sat there trembling.

"We did it!" Malcolm said and gave me a hug in triumph. I hugged him back and sobbed into his shoulder.He helped me to my feet and slowly walked back the way we came.

"Sorry I didn't listen to you, so don't cry okay? You're okay. I'm here and I'll make sure to protect you." He said and gave me his trademark smile. I gave him a half-assed smile in between sobs and held onto his shirt tail tightly. When we finally found my parents, let's just say they were less than pleased. After checking me and Malcolm for injuries, we were both scolded and my mom made certain not to take her eyes off us. We did deserve it, that wouldn't have happened had we simply listened to mom. Honestly, that's just common fucking sense.

But our good times were soon to be cut short. I didn't see Malcolm as often to play like we used to before that trip. He'd always apologize and gave me some lame-ass excuse that I always believed. Things had changed and were about to get worse.


	2. Two

At one point, I'm not completely sure when, butMalcolm moved in with us. It was temporary until my parents could figure out what to do with him. I must've been like 11-ish. It's not exactly a happy memory either. In fact, it's a shitty one.

The air was heavy when woke up to the sound of shouting coming from the living room. I walked out into the dark hallway and the shouts got louder but slowly grew distant. I remember feeling scared and confused. My parents never fought. Did someone break in? I trembled as I walked down the hall toward the living room. It felt like an eternity had passed before I got to the end and peered around the corner. My mom was in the living room and mywas dad standing outside the front door, he was still yellingand sounded furious. It terrified me since I'd never heard my dad so angry. Mom had Malcolm sitting on the couch and was bandaging his arm.

"Don't worry Malcolm. Everything will be okay.You'll be good as new." I heard her say, but he didn't seem to register what she said. I couldn't see him too well, but from what I could see, he didn't look like himself.

"Mom? What's going on?" I asked walking over to the two of them cautiously. Malcolm was staring at the floor and didn't say anything as I approached.

"Oh, Lars, sweetie, um… well Malcolm's had a scary night, so he's gonna stay with us." She said, "Here, why don't you come sit next to him and keep him company?"

I sat next to him while my mom went out with my dad and noticed how beat up he was. It still pisses me off just thinking about it.

"Hey, you okay Malcolm?" I said. He finally looked at me and the look on his face sent shivers down my spine. In an instant his arms were wrapped around me and he squeezed so tight I thought he'd break my spine. Even without words, I knew something terrible happened to him.But, as a kid how do you even begin to understand what trauma is?

"Don't worry Malcolm, I'll protect you. Just like you did for me, remember?" I said and hugged him tight. He nodded and relaxed his grip, just a little.

I later learned that Malcolm's parents left him behind and, to my understanding, had no intention of coming back. They treated him like shit and didn't give a crap about what happened to him.

From that night on, things were different between usas he slowly became more distant. I didn't really know how to approach him at times, and his personality shifted from his carefree attitude, to one of silence and emptiness.

In the weeks that lead up to his disappearance, he began to show less and less emotion. Even when he was there, I'd often find him staring off into space before I snapped him out of it. He would sit there with a blank expression, his eyes devoid of the wonder he once had when I first met him. It was as if someone came and sucked out his personality and spirit along with it. I couldn't even comprehend what he was going through, partly because our family dynamics were as different as you could possibly get. I had a loving family, Malcolm didn't. He'd been exposed to the harsh reality we lived in at an early age and it broke him.

I woke up for school one morning and noticed Malcolm wasn't in bed and his side of the room was almost barren. All there was, was a fucking note on his pillow.

'Bye Lars.' It read. Two damn words, just two god forsaken words was all he had to say to me. I wanted answers but didn't know where to start. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom distressed on the phone. I sat at the table and stared at her.

"Okay, thank you very much." She said and hung up the phone. She noticed I was at the table and acted as if nothing was wrong.

"Oh, good morning Lars! Here, I made you some waffles." She said placing a plate in front of me.

"Mom, where did Malcolm go?" I asked her. She flinched and stayed silent for a good minute before responding to my question.

"He, um… He left, sweetie." I remember my hands trembling as I gripped my shorts. So many emotions filled my head, confusion, fear, sadness, worry and ultimately anger.

"Why? Where'd he go?"

"I… I don't know," She walked over to me, knelt down and gave me a hug, "I'm sorry baby; but sometimes things happen and… we don't really know why, understand?" She said, "Now, you gotta finish getting ready for school okay? Finish your breakfast and I'll get your backpack."

She smiled and walked into the other room. I sat therewith a whirlwind of emotions in my head and a tightness in my chest. I wondered if Malcolm would ever come back or if we were even friends anymore. We had done everything together, been through so much together, which made his absence all the more difficult and frustrating. At the time I couldn't fathom why he'd suddenly leave without any warning or even so much as a goodbye.

I finally got the chance to ask years later.


	3. Three

I stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk and shivered as it drove off.

Damn it's cold. I rubbed my hands together and exhaled on them to try and get them somewhat unfrozen.This only fogged up my glasses and rendered me temporarily blind. I really need to invest in some contacts. Once I regained my sight, I walked toward the warm lights that peeked through the restaurants and storefronts down the road. It wasn't snowing but it felt like it should've been. It was weather like this that made me wonder why we didn't get snow. Regardless, it was nice to be home.Dragging my oversized luggage behind me, I found my parents' car parked on the street and smiled as they both came out. My mom wasted no time and ran over to hug me.

"Lars, my baby! I missed you so much." she said andpulled me in for a big hug, "How does it feel finishing yourfirst semester in college? Have you been studying? Did you make any new friends? Was your trip rough? Did you eat breakfast this morning?"

"Mom you already know I've been studying. I talked to you just the other day and like every day before that." I said.

"Don't sass me! I still want to know how you've been."

"Alright, to answer your previous questions… Good. Yes. A couple. No, and yes. Also, I missed you too." I said and gave her a wink. I'd gotten used to her spitfire questions and turned it into a game of sorts. My dad let out a small laugh and shook his head as he picked up my luggage and tossed it in the trunk.

"Gerard don't laugh! Tell him to give me proper answers." my mom said in a fake angry voice.

"Well you ask so many questions that we barely have any time to process what you've asked." my dad said as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"God knows I still can't keep up with the amount of drilling you do on a daily basis," he said. My mom punchedhim in the arm. He laughed rubbing his arm and started the car.

The drive home was lively. Jokes were flung back and forth as I told them the things I'd learned and how much I fucking hated Professor Hopkin because of his apparent joy in humiliating students in front of the class. Hearing them laugh made the mood felt lighter and warmer compared tothe cold, overcast sky on the other side of the car window. There was a calmness to it, and I'd missed the easygoing vibe my parents gave off. It almost felt like I'd never left.

As the car pulled into the driveway next to my car, I couldn't help but look at that empty farm house across the way. Overgrown brush spilled onto the porch and the trees hid the house from view. Nature seemed to have claimed the house for itself and had no intention of giving it back. The door was off its hinges and spray paint left by the juveniles in town wrapped around its walls. It was a broken shell with no purpose. Just a plot of land, with no meaning to anyone that passed by it. Anyone but me. It held my gaze no matter how hard I tried to resist and the warmth I felt a couple minutes ago slowly disappeared. I stepped out of the car and the house's shadow loomed over me as it stared back. I could hear two voices laughing in the back reaches of my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to break away.Suddenly my mother's voice pierced through the air, breaking my trance.

"Lars! Come inside or you'll freeze to death!" she said from the front door. I blinked and shook my head, bringing myself to my senses. As I turned to go inside, I took one last glance at the house. It sat in silence as the wind blew leaves across its driveway, which was almost nonexistent. With a sigh I walked to the front door where my mom was waiting with a questioning look. Shit, here we go.

"What were you doing standing out there?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just admiring the orchards is all." I responded.

"Oh, well I'm not surprised, you always did love those orchards. Too bad it's not spring, then there'd beblossoms." She said shutting the door and took the scarf from my neck. I knew she was trying to be helpful, but I could hear it in her voice. She knew exactly what I was looking at and who I was thinking about.

"Exactly. It was always so god damn adorable seeing you play in the petals with Malcolm –" my dad began. I shot him a look. I opened my mouth to say something and play it off, but my mom beat me to the punch. And here it is.

"Gerard! What did I tell you in the car?" she said.

"Mom, we've talked about this already." I said to her pinching the bridge of my nose, "I told you, it's okay. Stop acting like Malcolm died. He didn't. All he did was run away." And the police never found him. I never got to see him again.

"Right. Okay, okay. I just thought that you wouldn't want to talk about Malcolm your first night back."

"There's not much to talk about anyway. I just… well, I don't know. He just disappeared, right? We don't know where he went and probably never will because he's not coming back." I stood there as the thick air around me hung heavy on my shoulders. A few moments later I felt my dad's hand on my head.

"It's okay Lars. You can talk to us you know?" He said as I leaned on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

"I know… but I'm okay, really. I think I'm going to go unpack." I said.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked down the hall to my room. I could hear their hushed arguing from the living room and rolled my eyes as I opened the door to my room and shut it behind me, tossing my keys onto the dresser. With a sigh I closed my eyes, leaned against my door and slid to the floor. I looked over at my reflection in the mirror. So much for warm and lively. Peeling myself from the floor, I put my clothing in the dresser that was too small for everything I'd packed. In doing so, my mind began to wander, and I stared at the empty corner of my room. I could still see the indents from his bed in the ground. Why'd he leave? Why didn't he say goodbye? Did I dosomething wrong? I looked out my window at his old house and felt my blood boil the longer I stared at it. Did he notcare about me? Why do I still care about that asshole? My phone vibrated and made my mind resurface. I looked at it and saw one of my friends, Robin, had messaged me about meeting up.

Maybe I need a bit of fresh air. I went to grab my keys and paused, staring at the picture frame sitting next to them. It lay face down, covered in dust. I frowned and put it in my drawer before grabbing the keys and walking out into the hallway. I could hear the voice of a talk show host in the living room. Comforting to know they aren't still arguing.

"Mom, I'm going to Chubby's to meet up with the guys if that's alright." I said as I put my scarf back around my neck.

"Oh! That sounds fun. What time do you plan on getting back?" She said as I walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hmm… not sure. I'll let you know though."

"Tell everyone we said hello and be sure to drive safe since it's getting dark out there, alright?" my dad says giving me a pat on my arm.

"You got it." I said making a finger gun as I went to the door. I ignored Malcolm's house as I got in my car and drove off.


	4. Four

The diner wasn't too far away from home. It was one of the last diners to remain in operation in that little town. My friends and I always loved eating there and, for most of us, it was our first job.

When I got there, I could see everyone in the window had already sat down at the biggest booth. The warmth I felt was slowly creeping its way back in me as I saw their laughing faces. Robin was ordering when he looked over and spotted me as I walked in.

"Ayy!" he yelled and the other two mimicked his greeting. Just relax and put your face on.

"What's up fuckers?" I shouted as I walked over and plopped down in the booth. I'm sure we looked like idiots to the other patrons at the diner, but we didn't care; it was fun being just a bit odd in public. I do think I scared the waitress though since she finished writing their orders and hurried to the kitchen as I got closer.

"When'd you all get back?" I asked.

"My flight landed early this morning, so I got here a couple hours before you did." Our friend Mark said placing a couple sodas on the table. He handed me one and sat next to me.

"Adam and I got back two days ago." Robin said elbowing our dear friend Adam in the rib cage causing his soda to splash his face.

"What the hell man? You got it in my nose!" Adam said as he quickly reached for the napkins.

I laughed and handed him a couple. "Here, asshole."

"Thanks."

"So, how've you been Lars? We haven't heard from you in a while." Robin said.

"Yeah, did you forget about us?" Adam said tossing a balled-up napkin at me. I grabbed it and threw it right back at him.

"Like I could forget about you little shits." I said, "But, uh, I've been pretty alright. Not much to say really, college has been a bit underwhelming so far. It's only been a couple months though so can't complain yet. I'm just burnt out. Like, shit. People weren't kidding when they told us college would be difficult. You can't just fly by like we did in high school that's for sure."

"Dude, I can't tell you how fucking true that is! I literally –" Adam began, but I had tuned him out andlooked out the window. Would Malcolm be in college right now? Would he have a hard time with his classes? Did he care about school? Wait… did he even go to school? I hadreceded into my thoughts once again for a minute or two before being brought back by a shout.

"Hey! Earth to dipshit." Mark said in my ear and I flinched.

"Damn what planet were you on Lars?" Robin said as he raised an eyebrow, "You

alright man?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just lost in thought thinking about my grades and shit." I said as the waitress arrived with our food. Thank god, I don't think I'd be able to explain this to them. At least, not now.

After we finished our food, we walked out into the cold winter air once again. I laughed at something Adam said, but in the corner of my eye I could see someone walking in our direction. I turned to steal a small glance at them and my eyes went wide. I felt my body freeze. You're shitting me right now.

He looked up at us as he got closer and stopped when he made eye contact with me. I'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Malcolm dropped the paper bag he was holding and its contents spilled onto the pavement. My face felt like it was burning up and my hearing muffled. The only thing I could hear clearly was my heart pounding in my ears. What the hell is he doing here? Why now? Malcolm broke eye contact first and knelt to pick up his bag while I stood and watched him. Say something. Do something you idiot!

"Hey, Lars! You okay, man?" I heard through the muffled air. Robin tapped me on the shoulder and I had control of my limbs again. I looked over at Robin, then back at Malcolm who stood holding his bag. He quickly walked past us with his head down.

"Hey –" I said as I reached for his arm. He ripped away from me and gave me a wide-eyed glare before walking away. I stood there dumbfounded watching him leave.

"Do you know him Lars?" Robin asked. My hands balled into fists and I felt something in me snap.

"Yeah, sort of." I said and grinded my teeth. You piece of shit. I walked back to my car in frustration.

On the way home I could feel myself getting angrier and angrier. Who the hell does this piece of shit think he is? Does he hate me now? What the fuck is his problem? I see him for the first time in how long and he does THAT? I parked in my driveway and stormed to the front door, pausing when I reached for the doorknob. Don't make a scene. I walked inside and my parents were still on the couch. They both looked over at me.

"Hey, how was your night?" my dad said. Don't freak out.

"It was good. Nice to see Robin and them again. I'm gonna head to bed though, I'm pretty beat." I said and quickly walked down the hall.

"Okay then, good night sweetie!" My mom said. They probably sensed something was off, but I was too agitated to care.

I went into my room and shut the door walking over to the drawer letting out quick shaky breaths. I yanked it open and grabbed the picture frame. It was me and Malcolm smiling the biggest smiles we could muster right at the camera. Before it brought me joy, but now all I felt was anger. Why? I threw it at my bed and ran my finger through my hair in frustration. As if fate was toying with my emotions, I looked out my window and saw Malcolm across the street. I watched as he walked into his old house through the crack in the front door. You've got some explaining to do you ass. I walked back into the living room and out the door.

"I thought you were going to sleep?" My mom said.

"I changed my mind. I'll be back in a bit." I said and left.


	5. Five

I walked into the house and looked around what was left of the living room frantically trying to find him. I lowered my head and called out in frustration.

"I know you're in here, Malcolm! What? You can't even give me a simple hello? This is the first time I've seen you in five years and you avoid me?" I said and waited. My body trembled from the cold breeze that came through the house as I stood in silence. I heard footsteps coming toward me and I looked up. Standing 15 feet away from me was the one person I'd longed to see again more than anyone and, at this very moment, the one person I absolutely despised. There was no mistake that it was Malcolm. Yet, something was different. Malcolm looked at me with a blank expression that hid behind his hair, his eyes void of joy. I should've been happy to see him. I should've run up and hugged him. But I didn't. Malcolm only stared, the same way he did when we first met, like a total stranger. Except this time, he didn't utter a word. My hands became fists and I took a step forward, my eyes glued to the person in front of me.

"You going to say anything asshole? Or are you just going to stand there?" I said.

"Do you feel I owe you for something?" he finally said. His voice was low and hoarse, but I heard every word. I could feel tears start to well up in my eyes.

"Are you serious?" I said. "You left me all alone! You disappeared, without so much as an explanation. You didn't say shit about where you were going or if you'd come back or if we'd even stay friends! My parents worried for months. Did you just decide we weren't worth your time anymore? Did you hate me? Did my parents not give you enough? Or did you just want to use and manipulate us? What ever happened to protecting each other, Huh? What was it? Spit it out you heartless piece of shit! You never cared about anyone other than yourself. Selfish prick."

At that point I knew I struck a nerve. His expression went from blank to angry within a millisecond and he lunged at me so fast I barely had enough time to register it. He grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me up to his face, knocking my glasses off in the process. The look on his face said he was angry, but I could see in his eyes there was something else. I pried his hands off and punched him.Malcolm stumbled to the ground as I managed to catch myself on the wall behind me. His head lowered as he propped himself on his knees.

"I'm selfish?" he said, "You act like you're the better person here! Like you're not at fault. After I moved in with you, you were constantly looking at me like I was weak with those stupid green eyes of yours. You treated me like a scared animal, always tip-toeing around me. You didn't give a shit about me!" I could hear the strain in his voice as the words left his mouth.

"Who said I didn't?" I said, "You really believe that? You were my only friend for years. I was worried about you. I depended on you to be in my life. We were supposed to be there for each other, and you just left!"

The first thing I felt was the impact on my cheek, followed by immense pain as I fell to the ground. I coughed as I picked myself up from the ground and tried to make sense of what happened. My ear was ringing, and my vision blurred. I felt liquid drip down my face. Blood. He pinned me down and I shut my eyes as he reared for another blow. I heard the impact of his fist make contact with the ground. He didn't say anything, nor did either of us try to move. The only audible noise was our labored breathing filling the silence. Time stood still and it seemed as though we were the only humans on the planet.

"I'm… not heartless. I just… I thought –" He began, but never finished his sentence. He let go and fell back. With a nervous laugh, he held his head in his hands. I sat up and stared at his blurry figure. It'd only been five years, but I realized how different we had become. I had too many emotions that I had yet to even attempt to comprehend, and Malcolm, well, God only knows what was happening in his head. I sat up and broke the silence.

"What happened Malcolm?" I said. He lifted his head to face me and shrugged. After a couple minutes he finally spoke.

"You know what fucking happened" He said.

"Malcolm you know that's not what I meant." He looked down at his injured hand.

"My parents always told me I was a piece of shit. Didn't believe them at first. But, sheer will power can only do so much," He looked up at me with a pained expression. I could see the tears in his eyes leave streaks on his face as he spoke.

"I guess I took after them after all, huh?" It was then that the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I never stopped to consider the trauma Malcolm experienced and what had been plaguing his mind all these years. I was so enveloped in my own selfishness that I'd blinded myself.He'd been suffering in silence for years, just like me.

"They made my life a living hell, but I always thought it was my fault." He said, "I couldn't get that night out of my head, like it was constantly playing on loop! I ran from my problems instead of dealing with it. I left you behind and I can't take it back. I started to push you away because I thought… I thought you hated me. The look you always gave me made me angry because I thought you pitied me. I couldn't stand it."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't you ask?" he said but I couldn't answer him. Why didn't I?

After some time, he finally stood up and walked out. I didn't stop him. I was too tired. When I finally mustered the courage, I stood up and walked back to my house.

I got home and told my parents what happened, I mean, I walked through the door with a bruised face, no glasses and dirty clothes after running out without an explanation. So, there was bound to be at least a few questions. I told them about Malcolm and what we spoke about.

"We need to call the authorities and let them know he's in town." My dad said and reached for his phone, but I stopped him.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I said.

"Why not? He's been missing for years and now we know for sure he's alive." I thought about Malcolm for a brief moment and shook my head.

"Something tells me Malcolm wouldn't want that."

In the days that followed, I'd catch glimpses of Malcolm in town. I think he was staying at a motel nearby. I was never sure. We'd acknowledge each other if we crossed paths but nothing more than that. I didn't expect our relationship to mend itself overnight, but I was content with what I had. My memories of Malcolm felt oddly melancholic now. I came to understand that either Malcolm and I were never destined to remain friends, or we just weren't ready to fully talk things out. I didn't want to accept it, but I understood that Malcolm probably wasn't ready to face me yet and I don't think I was either.

The day before I left for college, I sat in front of Malcolm's old house holding the picture of us and staring at its broken windows, chipped paint and mossy porch. It no longer loomed over me as if it were a burden, just a relic with memories of two little boys who met by chance. As I stood there, I heard footsteps approach and stand next to me. I didn't turn to look, but I knew who it was. He sat next to me and after a couple minutes I handed him the picture. He took it and let out a small chuckle.

"Guess we both needed saving, huh?" he said. I leaned back and nodded.

We'd been sitting there for a while when I felt Malcolm lean on my shoulder. We both let out a tired sigh simultaneously, but neither of us uttered a word.

_End._


End file.
